


The Freedom of Fresh Air

by serpentunder_t



Category: Newsflesh Trilogy - Mira Grant
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentunder_t/pseuds/serpentunder_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been 4 years since the Mason siblings fled across the border into Canada, and now they have an announcement to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Freedom of Fresh Air

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd!  
> Also I didn't technically read the Newsflesh Trilogy, I listened to the audiobooks, so please forgive any mistakes in spelling or formatting!

Things were different now. Living in the wilds had changed our perspective on people, no longer feeling the comfortable safety that once came from safety checks and testing units. It was like we’d slowly learned why some of the older generations had held on so damn tightly to the fresh air and freedom of green trees and blue skies. I’d always thought they were nuts, living day to day in a death trap. But now, now I could feel the wind in my bloodstream and it called me home.

Being around people made me nervous, and not just because we were still technically ‘on the run.’ The fear that they would recognize us was always there, taunting us with one phone call that would turn our lives upside down all over again. But it was also the cages they locked themselves in that set my teeth on edge, reminding me of the stark white walls that swallowed me whole in the CDC. People were still so happy to be ushered through the air locks and to the tests, likes sheep to the slaughter. Oh it had gotten better since the CDC had been exposed, and it was even less prominent here in Canada than it had ever been in California, but compared to how we’d chosen to live, even the larger supply stations in the area set my teeth on edge.

I just wanted to go home. To our old cottage halfway up the mountain. We couldn’t drive a vehicle bigger than my dirt bike up to it, and even that we had to walk up at least a third of the way. Shaun had managed to install solar panels when we’d first found the location, as I’d worked on making it livable once again. All of the technology and plumbing in the house had been pre-rising, but it suited our needs well enough. Staying off the grid would’ve been much more difficult with unlimited access to the latest tech, after all. So we stuck to the bare minimum, and we built a life. One without blood tests and bleach showers three times a day. One without fear.

Sure, the zombies weren’t going anywhere, and I wasn’t immune. But the house was in a clearing with a low fence surrounding it, enough to stop the occasional wanderer until we could deal with it. We hadn’t actually had a zombie stumble across our land in over two months now. In the early days we swept the area pretty clean, and since then our biggest problem has been keeping the deer out without scaring away the smaller game. But we weren’t wallowing in our fear, locking ourselves up and refusing to live. We were together, we were alive, and that had to be enough for now.

My stomach lurched. Rubbing at it tenderly I heard Shaun walking up behind me, his footsteps clearly distinct from the undead. “How’re you feeling?” His arms circled my waist as I leaned back into them.

“I’m fine.” I turned in his arms to face him, “How’re you?” I spoke quietly, studying his face. He still sometimes heard the other Georgia in his head, but according to him, it was becoming less and less frequent. I was still worried that somehow the anxiety he’d been feeling surrounding our upcoming situation could be getting to him more than he let on.

“Today, I’m wonderful.” He smiled at me. Shaun looked like he’d aged far more than the 4 years it had been since we’d crossed the border, but he wore the age well. The scruff that grew at his face matched well with the callouses his hands bore, not from a gun but from an axe. It turned out that running from zombies wasn’t the same as chopping your own heat source after all, as he’d complained violently the first year. There were small lines at the corner of his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He looked happy. Good and truly happy.

I buried my face closer into his chest; he smelled of sweat and sap, a combination I had come to love nearly as much as I loved the man who it graced. It was a far cry from the bleach and the subsequent citrus smell that had followed us around for most of our lives.

I no longer wear my sun glasses. I don’t need them anymore, I don’t have any reason to hide my face. It took a while to get used to, but now I don’t even grab them to go on supply runs. We’ve also weaned ourselves off of caffeine. That was a nightmare. Shaun had a tougher time than I did, because well, I didn’t have much of a choice when I finally stopped trying to stock up on coke whenever possible. I had to tell Mahir to stop including them in the packages he’d send to various safe drops, which I think nearly gave him a heart attack. It wasn’t long after than he send us a message, guessing what we’d only recently discovered ourselves.

I could feel my stomach wiggling as Shaun let out a low laugh. He must’ve felt it too, which still makes me nervous. Actually this whole thing makes me nervous. And excited. And fucking terrified. There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong, but when I wake up in the night screaming from dreams of ‘what-ifs’, Shaun is always right there, comforting me. Maybe we’re lying to ourselves, but if we are it is the sweetest lie I’ve ever believed and the truth can go fuck its self.

Birds chirp in the trees and I swear I’ve never felt more alive than I do standing in our front yard. We finally left the Masons, the campaign, the CDC, the tests; we’ve left it all behind. Everything has fallen away except for our little slice of the world we carved out for our home. Ours. It’s nice to use that word. We always used to be so careful when we spoke about each other, but looking back I can barely remember what that felt like. How we managed it, I’ll never be sure. But we can’t ever go back to the way things were, and as I glance down between us at my protruding stomach I couldn’t be happier with the results.

My name is Georgia Mason II , and this is our pregnancy announcement.

 

 _-From Living Dead Girl_  
The blog of Georgia Mason II  
September 18, 2045

 

 

I would like to formally welcome my daughter, Willow Rebecca Mason into the world.  
May she grow up to be as strong and wonderful as the woman whose arms hold her now.

I’m a fucking dad!

 

 _-From Hail to the King!_  
The blog of Shaun Mason  
December 9, 2045

**Author's Note:**

> *Willow is the name of Buffy's best friend in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


End file.
